The Red Diary
by Beauty in Words
Summary: Every one conceals even the simplest secret. This is a story about a fragile, non-social schoolgirl and the red diary she was given by her dead grandma for times of emotional breakdowns. After the death of her mother, this girl unleashes her feelings of pain and suffering caused by her sick abusive father by writing passionately upon the frail pages of the booklet.
1. Prologue

_5 years earlier;_

Selena: (Munching on her toast, sitting with her parents at the dining room table) Mommy, I don't want the stupid babysitter to come over! (Continues to babble on and on, bread crumbs on the corners of her occupied mouth) I'm 12 years old, why do I need a babysitter?

Mom: Selena, sweetie I know that you are a big girl but I don't like the idea of leaving you alone at home while your dad and I are at work. What if someone broke into the house? How would you fight against them? (She questioned as she stuffed her work bag with files and loose papers)  
Selena: I'd kick them where it hurts most! (She said as she imitated kicking the person) Please, Mommy! Let me stay on my own for once!  
Dad: (Walks into the kitchen and kisses his wife) What are you whining about now sweetie? (He asked as he approached his daughter, placing a butterfly kiss on her forehead)

Selena: (Grabs hold of his arm, tugging at the end of his sleeve) Please daddy, convince mommy to let me stay home on my own for once! Oh please, please!  
Dad: I don't know Lena. (Gazes up at his wife, noticing her folded arms and raised eyebrow) There's obviously a very good reason that your mother doesn't want you home alone.  
Mom: Yes there is. (Nods toward her husband in approval; bends down eye level to Selena and smiling genially) You and I have already discussed the dangers of staying at home alone.

Selena: (Pouts, her arms crossed in an infantile manner)

Mom: (Shakes her head, a grin still plastered among her countenance, ogling at her husband as she mutters) And still, she's adamant. (Stares at her daughter) Mary is a very good babysitter, and she takes great care of you. (Sees Selena glowering, and chuckles) How about this? Mary comes over but I tell her not to bug you, and only check up on you every once in a while. That way, you'll feel like you're sort of home alone. What do you say? (She says as she places her hand on her daughter's shoulder, rubbing it gently with her thumb)  
Selena: (Sighs) Fine, I guess that's close enough.  
Mom: That's my big girl. (Kisses her cheek and grabs the phone to call the babysitter  
Dad: (Kneels down to Selena's level) Hey kiddo, how bout we play hide and seek in the dark when I get home from work, just like old times? Sound like a good idea to you? (Begins to tickle her sides)  
Selena: (Sniggering) Daddy, stop! (Laughs uncontrollably) ... S—Stop!  
Dad: All right then sweetie (Caresses the side of her face, tracing the soft skin and shifting a few strands of her brunette hair) Listen here, baby girl; I will never let anyone hurt you. You're my little angel, got that? (Opens his arms)  
Selena: (Beams, and runs into his arms, enjoying his embrace) I love you, daddy.

Dad: (Pecks her hair, tenderly) And remember to keep your chin up (Lifts her chin up with his finger) and stand tall, so no one can doubt your confidence.  
Mom: (Doorbell rings) That must be Mary. (Scurries toward the door) Hello there, Mary, it's great to see you again. (Gestures for her to come in) My husband and I are just leaving.

Mary: (Smiles politely at Lena's mother, and spots Selena. Waves)

Selena: (Cringes a bit, and sticks out her tongue at Mary)  
Dad: (Snickers) Well, that's my cue to leave. I'll see you in a little bit. (Kisses her head) I love you my angel.  
Selena: Likewise. (Giggles, sparkles of delight from her beautiful, brown eyes)  
Mom: (Strolls over to the two and kisses Selena on the cheek) Bye my darling. We'll see you later; take care of yourself. (Smirks) Don't trouble Mary too much.

_And with that, both parents wave their goodbyes to their daughter, unaware of the fact that as soon as they leave that household, happiness would evaporate as a memory of the past._

Selena: (Runs downstairs to grab a bite to eat when she hears whimpering coming from her babysitter) Mary? (Walks into the living room and finds Mary sitting on the couch, phone to her ear and tears stained onto her face as shock is an evident emotion embedded into her pale face) Mary? Why are you crying?  
Mary: (Turns to face Selena as more tears fall from her red puffy eyes) S-Selena grab your stuff, we need to go to the hospital now!  
Selena: B-But why? What happened? Who were you on the phone with? (Questions were wandering her mind as she tried to put the puzzle pieces together as to why they were going to the hospital)  
Mary: Sel, your... Your parent's building caught on fire and they were rushed to the hospital. I just got a call from one of the hospital nurses. We need to go see them urgently!  
Selena: M-My parent's building caught on fire? (She could barely construct her sentences. Her heart began to beat faster) Lets go then! (She stormed out the house as she held her jacket in one hand and a clenched fist in the other)

_At the hospital;_

_Mary and Selena were in the waiting room patiently waiting some news of Selena's parents._

Doctor: (Walks out with a pen and clipboard) Who's the family of Mr. and Mrs. Gomez? (Looked around expecting an answer)  
Mary: Oh we are Doctor! (She says as she raises her hand and walks towards the doctor with Selena close behind)  
Selena: Doctor, are my parents alright? Please tell me that they're okay! Please? (Looks up at the doctor with bewildering eyes)  
Doctor: (Sighs) I am sorry sweetie we couldn't save your mother. (Looks down as he refuses to see the sorrowed eyes of a child)

Selena: (Her heart sinks as tears begin to fall from her eyes) W-what? What do you mean you couldn't save her? Huh? Of course you could save her, you just gave up like that? You assumed that she was dead so you just left her there to die? How cruel can you be? That's my mother! MY MOTHER! (She screamed as tears were rapidly falling from her eyes. Mary tried holding her back from the feeling of wanting to attack the doctors)  
Mary: Selena sweetie, please calm down it's going to be alright, please calm down. (She said as she held onto her rubbing her back soothingly. Tears were starting to fall from her own eyes as she tried to soothe Selena) W-Well can you at least tell us see her... Please Doctor?

Doctor: (Sighs) alright follow me.

_Mary followed the doctor as Selena slowly followed behind, dragging her feet along the way with tears continuing to fall._

Doctor: (Stops in front of a room and gestures them to enter) Well, here we are. I'll be back in about 10 minutes. (Walks out of the room)

Mary: (Moans and leans amongst the frame of the door, massaging her temples. Watching Selena carefully)

Selena: (Slowly walks up to her mom's lifeless body and intertwines her fingers within hers) M-Mommy (Sobs) Please don't leave me Mommy... Please don't leave me! (More tears begin to fall as she stares at her mother's pale burnt face) This can't be happening! (Drops her mother's hand as she backs up against a wall. She slides down the wall as tearsrapidly fall from her red puffy eyes. Her tears became desperate sobs)

END OF PROLOGUE;


	2. Officially Alone

**Present day**;

_Selena's Point of View_

I continue packing my bag for the first day of my new high school tomorrow. You know, the place overloaded with stresses such as fitting in, drama because of "so called" best friends, and the constant PDA of newly romantic couples. I placed my stuffed backpack on my bed and headed toward my dresser to finalize my hair.

I'm planning to the library so I could borrow a new book. I'd just finished reading "The Notebook" and was so engaged with the author, Nicholas Sparks, I decided to buy another of his fine works. I'm not a fan of love, in fact, I hate it; the useless crying over distant nobodies, the ongoing laughter and clinginess… Eh! It irritates me to the point of disgust. I just thought that if I tried reading books about this love factor, maybe I'd grow a better interest. But I didn't, so I decided to carry on perusing through its pages for the hell of it with no prayers of finding love like within these stories.

As my arm extended to reach for my hair brush, my eyes fell upon a bruise along my wrist and a tear slithered shamelessly down my cheek, the memories from the previous night replaying in my mind.

Five years ago, flames struck the floors of my parent's office. That day, I lost my mother. My father, with unfortunate luck, escaped with a diagnosis of severe brain damage. Once my father had learned Mom was dead, his mind somehow developed a scene, or a vision, where I was in the building, and started the fire that ultimately led to her death. Ever since that night, my father repeatedly and brutally abused me, blaming me for Mom's end. I attempted stopping it, but the more I fought, the more it hurt as his grip became firmer.

My neighbors are the only people aware of my father's condition; they heard my shrill shrieks as my father would abuse my body as if I were some ragdoll. They've endeavored to convince me to call the police to have him arrested, but I just couldn't find the heart to do that. With Mom gone, my Dad's my only family; I just had to endure the pain until my father's health returns to normal. Around 2000 and—Never.

A few nights ago, I came home late , returning from my studies at the public library. My father was fuming, swearing and shouting bitter words of how I hated everyone and that's why I murdered my own mother. Of course I knew it wasn't true, I mean I was home with my babysitter at the time, but what's the use in convincing the mentally ill? He grasped my wrists with such force, compelling me to the ground as he began to kick my body with all his might. My cries converted into loud sobs, the stinging pain devouring my body with immense sharpness. I cried myself to sleep, quietly murmuring wishes to God that my father would come back. The man I loved; the man who would always stand up for me when my mother was being unfair; the man who never stopped loving me even after all the mistakes I had made; that man was my father, not that stranger inmy house, the one who physically and mentally tortures me every night. No, no he is not.

Wiping my tears, I lay my brush down, gawking at the poor brunette in my mirror with tender cheeks and bloodshot orbs. I stroll over to my bedside table, and pull out my best friend, my red diary. This diary means everything to me; within its pages are my deepest secrets. On nights when I felt weak and trapped from my father's cruelty, I wrote in here about my pain; it's how I keep my sanity.

Opening my diary, I skimmed through the many pages of dark secrets, then carefully placed it back down as I journeyed downstairs to go to the library. I was stopped, and my heartbeat quickened as the awful stench of 3-day old, soiled breath swept past my nose.

**Dad:** What do you think you're wearing?

I glanced at my clothing: a plain, black fitted T-shirt with navy blue skinny jeans. My eyebrow rose in bewilderment. I gazed back up at his stern face and noticed his stable expression as he lick his crispy chops.

**Me:** What do you mean, Dad?

**Dad:** (With harsh, narrowed eyes) What did I tell you about calling me Dad, you worthless piece of SHIT!

Again, a single tear found its way from my eye as those four words pierced my heart: "Worthless piece of shit…" I know that ever since the accident, my father's hated me, but it's so hard for a child not to call their dad, "Father."

**Me:** I-I'm sorry Da- I mean… I'm sorry, but why can't I wear these clothes?

My voice was soft and gentle, so it doesn't seem as if I'm complaining. My dad despises whiners.

**Dad:** (Grabs Selena's wrist and points to one of her several bruises) That! If people see this mark on your arm, it's evidence that I've been abusing you, and I am not, I repeatnot going to jail for what you so rightfully deserve!

My heart shattered, and tears continuously stream down my face. I nodded slightly, and I scurried upstairs, yanking a wool grey sweater over my upper body. I quickly rushed out of the house, appalled by the idea of confronting my father again.

_One hour later._

I unlocked the door sluggishly, terrified if my father will scream at me for arriving home so late. Cracking open the door, a broken "hello" slipped off my dry tongue.

No response.

I walked in slowly, gaping into the living room , only to see my two neighbors, Cathy and Steven, fussing on the couch, mumbling too-short-of-words for me to understand. Cathy and Steven have been my neighbors for as long as I can remember, having moved here around the same time that we did. A happy couple, young and accomplished, they've treated me like I'm one of their own. My parents and them were very close until—please don't remind me. After that, they'd never spoken to us a lot or visited. Nonetheless, they heard my whimpers for help when my father tortured me. A while back, Cathy appointed me to call the police so I wouldn't have to continue living with this. I refused, acknowledging that I'd be ruined without my father; I did not care if it is his fault that I'm so fragile.

I ambled further into the room, scanning the house in search for my father.

**Me:** What are you guys doing here? (Gulps) W-Where's my father?

Hesitation in my voice, they shared exchanges of looks to one another. Cathy and Steven wouldn't be able to sit here so peacefully if my father was here at this very moment or expected to come. Shit.

**Cathy:** Selena sweetie, we… (Clears throat)… called the police and had them arrest your father.

They both looked at the ground like two children who'd eaten the last of the cookies from the cookie jar. Abruptly, a sudden sense of relief and hurt, perplexity and unbelief overwhelmed me. Was I free? Or would the memories still haunt me?

**Me:** H-How could you do this to me? He's my father! (Breathing uneasy)

The pain of being without my father had taken over, forcing me to feel sour emotions like anger and bitterness towards the people who were here to free me.

**Steven:** (Stands up) Selena, we were only trying to help! He would abuse you as if you were nothing! You didn't deserve to be treated like that, and we weren't going to sit around and hear your screams every night unsure of what might happen!

They thought he'd kill me. Nonsense! He's my father; my real father, a man who would have never considered taking a life, was still in there.

**Me:** He would never do that to me.

My face was calm; inside, I was screaming.

**Cathy:** How can you just say that, Selena? I understand that he's your father and I know that you love him, but still, even after everything he put you through—you know what? It doesn't matter because it's over now. Done. You can finally get the peace that you so frantically desire. (Smiles comfortingly) You'll be attending to a new school tomorrow. You can start over.

I knew they were right, and I was overjoyed that I wouldn't have to deal with abuse anymore. However, the realization that'd I'd need to survive on my own frightened me. I remember Cathy, as if she'd snuck her way in my mind and back, offered me a bedroom in their household, but I objected; they'd done so much for me already, and I couldn't make myself a burden on them . Plus, I truly felt more comfortable in my own home.

Steven approached me, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. It's been a long time since I've been touched with such kindness, and butterflies began fluttering in my lower stomach.

**Steven:** Well, we better get going. You take care of yourself Selena and once again, try to find the positive in this. If you need anything, we're just next door.

**Cathy:** Make sure that you call us if you need anything and you never have to ask before you come over, just ring the doorbell. (Kisses Selena's forehead, then caresses her cheek.)

"Goodbye, and thank you" I whispered, almost inaudibly, as I watched them saunter toward the door. Cathy turned back, shot a sweet smile in my direction, and Steven, with his endless charm, took hold of her hand and led her out.

As I heard the diminutive click of the door, I limped upstairs into my room, and tucked myself under the covers of my burgundy blanket. I cried myself into a peaceful nap. Alone. I was officially alone.

And the day after, I remain alone. No mother; no father; no one.


	3. Reading the Story of a Shattered Life

_Selena's POV_

My eyes fluttered open as the hot rays of the blazing sun beat down on me through the cracks of my auburn curtains, groaning when I stretch out my arms and turn to my clock. 6:30 am—time for me to get ready for my first day at my new high school. Crawling out of bed, I drag my blanket along with me and stumble into the bathroom, continuously rubbing my eyes.

[[20 minutes later]]

I heave myself downstairs, regretting the day ahead as the memories of yesterday take over my mind. My heart is aching of loneliness. I stagger into the kitchen, missing my father and allowing sorrow to consume me. Yes, I know he never treated me right but he was my father, wasn't he? He never acted like one and he definitely never treated me like I was his own. I still feel a huge void in my heart with his absence. Why the fuck do I feel some vulnerable without him?

Shaking my head, I quickly grab a piece of bread and chug down a glass of cold milk, licking the white liquid off my lips. I grasp my rugged old backpack and head out the door, carefully locking the door behind me; I veer my head to the right and notice Cathy's shadow borrowing on her porch as she fixes her flower baskets, giving her house an ever so settle elegant touch. She turns and spots me, waving her blackened hand with an amorous smile plastered across her face. In some ways she resembles my mother: her sweet humming in the morning, her gorgeous, contagious smiles, and her loving attitude that makes you feel like you were forever protected. I return the beam, and then head to school. I'm dreading every step I take, getting closer to misery.

—

I knew I wouldn't fit in; I'm different. I'm not the type of girl who enjoys partying or getting drunk until I feel faint. I prefer isolation because I don't trust people easily. There's no need for love in my life. I feel that every time I get close to someone they have to leave me. Heartbreak after heartbreak.

I decided that once I get a chance, I will just sit alone and write in my red diary and pour my secrets out on every page. Most people wonder why a simple diary means so much to me; well, here's the story:

When I was 5 and a month before she passed away, my grandmother gave this diary to me as a Christmas present. She placed it in my infant hands and she whispers, "Whenever you feel like you are breaking down and need to cry for hours, write in here. When you feel like you're drowning and no one can hear your screams for rescue, write in here. Whenever you feel alone or frightened, write in here. This diary will be the memoir of all the difficult paths you have faced in life, and will shape you into the strong young woman you are destined to be." At the time, what she said meant nothing to me, so I just threw the diary into the closet thinking that I could use it for sketches. Nonetheless, when mom died and dad became ill, I searched for hours to find it, and eventually I did pour every bit of my pain into writing; on and on for several hours I would go into the extensive detail of grief and agony that hovered over my soul. It shielded me from entirely breaking down during the many nights of abuse from my father. All in all, all my life is this simple journal. I knew from that day, 5 years ago, this diary would be my safe place—the only thing I could actually turn to. My only hope.

The school setting opened up in front of me: a giant building settled on acres of illuminating green grass and the name 'Thomas Jefferson High' sprung out on a massive billboard. Hundreds of teenagers were rushing in and out, cradling their books and loose-leaf paper flew everywhere with the endless shoving and gossip. It's like I'm on some TV set.

I paced myself towards the main office building, confronting the secretary awaiting my map and school introduction package. A stern old lady with brunette hair in a messy bun and a dress suit way too big for her hips, she shot me a look that could kill. "Definitely don't want to upset her" I noted, and waited patiently while she finished her phone call with an upset parent. I gazed around at the numerous students, some already injured children with nose bleeds and bruises on their heads. I gulped, and my stomach churned so painfully I was fearful that I would puke right on the spot. Steering back toward the face of the secretary lady, I heard her put down the phone and sigh of relief, obviously content _that_ conversation was over. But then she rose a thick eyebrow, and my cheeks grew hot as her eyes examined me like I was a part of some foreign species. I stuttered, wondering if I should just start talking or wait for her to ask me. I decided to just speak up so I could get this over with and get this whole shitty day done with.

**Me:** Um, excuse me?

I couldn't suppress the quiver in my voice, but she didn't seem to notice. She merely folded her arms.

**Secretary:** Yes, hi can I help you?  
**Me:** Y-yeah. I'm new here.  
**Secretary:** Alright then. Let me go get you the student guide package.  
**Me:** Thank you.

I was a bit shocked by the bitterness in her tone; clearly she didn't enjoy wasting her time at this rutty school. Then again, what's so bad about a job that lets you sit around all day? My thoughts were interrupted as I heard her heels click against the ground as she approached me holding a sticky note, a pamphlet and a booklet in her hands. I stretch my hand out to grab the materials, eyeing her for a second for a sign of approval.

Muttering a soft "thank you", I head out the office doors, glancing down at my sticky note. "Locker 1603" I repeat the words about a thousand times, passing approximately 1590 lockers. My feet start to throb. ". . . 1598, 1599, 1600, 1601, 1602, and 1603!" Finally I mumbled to myself, referring back to the sticky note for my locker combination.

_Normal POV_

Demi stood at her locker struggling to get her books out, biting her lip hard in irritation. Her boyfriend, Joe, approaches her, planting a tender kiss on her cheek.

**Joe:** Hey beautiful, would you like some help?

He chuckled at her causing her roll her eyes, smashing her books into his chest.

**Demi:** Haha, Joseph. Now you're earned the pleasure of carrying my books.

She smirked victoriously. Everything about him gave her butterflies. They had been dating for 1 year now. She slammed the locker door shut and subtly looked over his shoulder when she notices a new girl with long dark brown hair tied back into a sleek ponytail and wearing a very casual outfit. The brunette looked odd and very different in a way, like she had something to hide.

**Demi:** Hey, Joe. Who's that?  
Demi questioned as she nodded her head in the direction of the new girl she was curious about.  
**Joe:** Not sure, probably a new student. You wanna go introduce ourselves?  
**Demi:** I think she'd appreciate it.

Demi gave him a sweet grin as they walked over to the new girl that seemed to catch Demi's attention. She walked up to her, feeling nervous for reasons she was very unsure about. "What if she's rude? Would she reply back to me or just ignore me?" These questions wandered Demi's noggin but she had no time to think, being that it'd be weird for her to just stand in front of her and stare into space. Demi cleared her throat.

**Demi:** Err, hi! You must be new here. I'm Demi Lovato and this is my boyfriend Joe Jonas.

Selena spun around to face Demi, a look of confusion spread across her innocent face. She stepped back like they were going to mug her.

"Do you need help finding your next class? I'm here if you need anything," Demi said, assuring her of no harm.  
**Joe:** Hey Dem, I'm gonna head to class I'll talk to you later.

Demi gave him a nod, clasping her books from him. He pecked her lips and headed towards his next class. Selena stood there gawking at the ground, unsure of what to say next until she spoke up which made Demi's face light up as she lifted her head back up.

**Selena:** I-I'm Selena.  
**Demi:** Awe, Selena's such a nice name. So what class do you have next?  
**Selena:** My schedule says English.

Demi could tell she was really shy; she wasn't even looking at her. Just as Demi was about to offer to walk her there, she noticed her best friend Miley running towards her.

**Miley:** Demi! Demi! I have amazing news!

Demi places the palm of her hand on her forehead in embarrassment of my best friend. She saw shyness play on Selena's face again.

**Demi:** Yes, Miles can I help you?  
**Miley:** OMG DEMS! I GOT AN A+ ON MY BIOLOGY TEST!  
Miley squealed as she held up her test, proudly. Miley perceived Selena and gave Demi a look of confusion.

**Demi:** Oh, Miley, this is Selena, she's new here.  
**Miley:** Hey! Nice to meet you, Selena!  
**Selena:** Hi.

Selena granted her a warm smile then looked back at her fingers.

**Demi:** Alright well, why don't I walk you to your English class Selena, Miley & I have it with you.  
Selena nodded at Demi as she walked in front of her, leading the way to their class with Miley following behind.

[[Interval between classes]]

Logan stood by his locker chatting to his friends, discussing the football game from the previous night.

**Logan:** 3 touch downs from one player; oh man that was great!  
**Nick:** He legit bulldozed that guy to the floor! Best part by far!

They continued sneering until Logan's eyes caught onto a brunette across the hall.

**Logan:** Hey Nick, who's she?

Logan budged Nick with his arm causing Nick to look into the direction he was implying.

**Nick:** I don't know. Some new girl I guess, why do you care?  
**Logan:** Sh-she's beautiful!  
**Nick:** Then what are you standing here for? Go talk to her, man!

Nick said as he pushes his best friend toward Selena. Logan brushes himself off, giving Nick a glare before continuing to walk up to Selena.

**Logan:** Uhm, hey. I'm Logan.

The young lad nervously scratches the back of his neck insecurely. Selena notices Logan standing there, making his whole body shake with anxiety.

"Selena," the auburn says, ogling him amid suspicion. Logan racks his mind for something impressive and gentlemen like to say.

**Logan:** So Selena, you're new...  
Mentally curses himself for saying such an idiotic line.

**Selena:** Yeah . . . Uhm, don't take this the wrong way but is there something I can help you with?  
**Logan:** Oh, no. Just wondering if...um..._you_ needed anything.

Logan began leaning nearer to Selena and her back curves parallel amongst the locker, her heavy breath slowing down. She swallows a lump in her throat and rapidly strides around him, not wanting to get into any drama.

"I-I need to go. Sorry," Selena mutters and dashes down the hallway before Logan could utter another word.

**Logan:** Selena wait—!

Logan curses himself under his breath for coming on too strong, kicking his foot against the locker when he abruptly discern a diminutive, red diary lying on the tiled floor. The name 'Selena Marie Gomez' is written straight across the front in beautiful calligraphy. He glimpses back up, checking if she's still in sight but doesn't see her. Logan turns his attention back down to the diary, opens the first page and verifies that no one is looking. He flips to the first page and reading, his jaw gradually dropping as he processes the shattered words of Selena's life story.


	4. Dark Brown Irises

**"We suffer primarily not from our vices or our weaknesses, but from our illusions. We are haunted, not by reality, but by those images we have put in their place."**

-Daniel J. Boorstin

* * *

_Dear diary,_

_He hit me again, but today it was more brutal. The resonance of his rasping voice continues to mock me. The essence of the smoke he'd blustered loiters upon my lips, leaving them dry as bone. I could hear the uneasiness of his breathing, indicating his lungs were suffocating. As my body was forced to straddle his, his cheeks turned deep rouge too quickly. My father is sick in so many ways._

_Dear diary,_

_My head is throbbing and I'm afraid if I swallow that I may throw up my dinner. He kept striking right on my stomach, muttering harsh words. I couldn't exactly them out. My agonizing screams override them. When I lift up my nightgown, I can see the lines popping out from my pale skin in long purple streaks. They hurt when I touch them. So, why is it I think they're so beautiful?_

At the bottom right of page was smudge of dried blood.

_Dear diary,_

_Right now I'm cradled in my bed sheets, listening to his pleading shouts for her. For my mother. His wife. Daddy's gotten himself drunk tonight and forgot about me. Not that I mind, of course... being forgotten. It means I have more time to myself—to think and to heal. This may sound selfish, and God may make sure he punishes me twice as hard for even having this disobedient desire, but I wish he'd pipe down. His bawls are scaring me._

_Dear diary,_

_He thinks I'm a monster. And I'm starting to believe him. Daddy's little monster._

The word "Daddy" was distorted. The black ink was bathed by a single teardrop.

Logan latched onto his lower lip and reluctantly shut the diary. He dared his longing fingers not to open it again, a repugnant chill promenading along each ring of his spine as his minded pondered on her mystified words. Regrettably, he'd gone too far into the burial of a conflict she hadn't granted him permission to begin digging.

* * *

SELENA'S VELVETY AUBURN locks suspended in front of her bloated vanilla complexion, the strap off her bag nestled unevenly against her stomach, encircling her mid-bicep and right shoulder. Clutching a few folders and a composition notebook aimlessly, she looked down; the fragmented cement of the sidewalk under her sore feet faded into darkness and revived itself as her mocha eyes wilted behind their lids. Although the remainder of her school day went smoothly overall, her brain was fried from all the educational cargo her teachers assigned. Just thinking about the hours she'd have to waste in order to catch up made her dizzy.

As she trotted up the walkway to her household, the alleviating tang of roasted chicken and sweet vegetables dissolved through the cracked entrance. Selena sucked in the tempting scent, rumbles abruptly emitting from her stomach as she turned her gaze to her neighbors' dwelling; her appetite had been well-suppressed until now, being she was so consumed in her train of hectic thoughts. "Cathy," she said and shoved the door open, following the crackles coming from the kitchen. Her mouth watered and her nose squeezed pallor white from her immersed inhalations.

Cathy stood over the stove, her gorgeous raven hair fashioned into an untidy bun and a stained apron wrapped securely around her wide hips. She wavered her hand back and forth amidst the pasty steam ascending from the cooking pot when she heard Selena's footsteps. "Lena, there you are," she announced enthusiastically, smiling, her lime green spheres sparkling in unison. "I was afraid you weren't going to show up soon enough. Food can only stay hot for so long." She laughed lightly, turning her attention back to the boiling plants.

Selena beamed softly. "You really didn't have to this. I'm not worth the trouble," she said, unraveling her bag from her shoulder.

Cathy veered to the brunette, unable to register the subtle slam of the bag as it hit one of table chairs from surprise. "Nonsense; you're happiness is worth all the time in the world," she claimed truthfully. She blamed the ruthless abuse from her father for Selena's lack in self-esteem, but sometimes wished she could see her perspective. Sympathetically, she thought how someone so beautiful and benign could regard themselves as a trouble.

"Thanks," Selena murmured, her patches flush. Pulling her hair behind her face and brushing it into the crook of her neck, she inquired, "So where is Steven?"

"My husband?" She teased, splashing a smirk across her mouth, "He works extensive hours on Mondays. You're gonna have to just settle for mwah tonight."

Selena broadened her smile, feeling her cheek muscles tauten. It hurt to smile because she hadn't in a while. There was a difference between a simple curve of the lips and a smile; a smile was outlined by waves of differentiating emotions. Fatigue sent ripples down her jaw; she ignored the numb sensation, and let herself feel what she wanted to. Cathy was the splitting image of her mother, or at least what she could remember of her—gracious, good-natured and wearing the remarkable qualities of a superior.

She gaped at Cathy. "Thank you," she whispered, sincerity and gratitude marking her words. Her hand rose to one of her temples, pressing against the unexpected mixture of dirt and sweat swamped upon her forehead. Recoiling, she saw the coat of moisture daubed on the nubs of her fingers. "Uhm—I think I'm just going to take a quick shower first. I feel disgusting."

Cathy giggled, wedging a wooden spoon into the pot. "Alright sweetie. Be back down here in 10."

Selena nodded in response and reached for the base of her top. Cathy's orbs did not withdraw from the stew.

Jogging up the stairs, she stripped off the shirt entirely her slim upper frame, shivering as her naked skin converged with the wintry air expelled from the conditioner. She stumbled into her room while unbuttoning her jeans, letting the loose-fitting denim sag to her feet, and she scurried into the bathroom.

The searing water frolicked as it bounced amongst her figure, bounding off it like diminutive ballerinas in elegant, weightless leaps. Selena sensed her limbs softening and she sighed, arching her neck, her scalp colliding to the hard barrier behind her. She closed her eyes.

She saw two children, a boy and girl, chasing one another in a carefree manner. The boy drew nearer to the girl and extended his scrawny arms, gaining enough speed to fully envelop them around her elfin waist and lugging her directly into his chest. He staggered backwards from the sudden force and they both toppled to the floor. The girl giggled, nails tracing over her pink lips innocently.

A vast shadow loomed above the two kids, making both of them lift their heads in curiosity. The voluminous hood restrained the haunting stature's facets, if there were any, and the youngsters gawked at him, pupils dilated. Interrupting the tense stillness was a sharp growl from his invisible mouth and he grasped the girl's hair, coercing her onto imbalanced feet.

The boy immediately tried to wrench his friend from the stranger's grip, but the harder he pulled the more voluble her earsplitting screams became. He ogled upward, taking note of the bristly arm enfolded to the girl's neck and her veins pulsing from her red-as-a-rose countenance. "Let go of her!" He whimpered, shaking them in panicked desperation. The hood slithered off the unknown's head.

First, Selena recognized the dark brown irises and deemed they belonged to her father. But then she absorbed the rest of his face, hypnotized by the suntanned peel surrounded by silk russet tousles that combed perfectly to compliment his narrow maw structure and his inviting kissable chops, and knew it wasn't him. It was the seemingly courteous boy she'd formerly encountered.

Logan.

It was no longer the little girl screaming. It was her, she noticed, and her eyes unbolted in fear. She rapidly ran out of the bathroom, gliding against the fogged floor tiles while she snatched the nearest towel. Covering her nude body, the thought of unscrewing the shower nozzle completely slipped her mind.

"Selena, sweetie? Are you okay?" Selena heard Cathy's shout worriedly from the kitchen, her head scarcely poking out the kitchen door prior to Selena rushing past her and to her book bag.

"It's got to be in here," Selena murmured, her heart clobbering while the bloodcurdling visual of Logan's identical marbles to the ones of her father's still clouded her thoughts.

"What does?" Clary tilted her head, brows knitted in bemusement.

Selena froze. "It's not in here. M-My diary."

Her life story was gone; out in the open for the whole world to read.

The atmosphere burnt.

"Selena... you look a little—"

She would never know the rest of that sentence; her vision fell to a crisp and she crumbled to the floor, surrendering to the sinister night of her mentality.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, Miley was dropped off early at school. It was ridiculous, she deliberated, that the coach demanded the squad get up beforehand like they weren't already losing precious hours of sleep by setting the alarm for six, just to add in another half hour of practice for cheer. The practice consisted of insignificant warm-ups no one had the energy to perform, and then it was off to homeroom. Quietly, she swayed her hand to and fro as her father pulled away from the curb, stopping when his vehicle took the left at the streetlight.

Her uniform, well-fitted to show up her lean body and matching hourglass curves, signified the brilliant logo of the school, overlaid in classic green and gold hues that stood for freedom and grace. However the tight fit of the inflexible fabric around her waist didn't exactly give her much freedom to breathe; plus the skirt was awfully short, barely able cover her ass and she was constantly tempted to yank the hem, cautious of revealing too much cleavage to any man.

She strode to the gymnasium, her gaze focused on the collar of her outfit to stretch the cloth hugging her neckline until she rammed into another person. Miley gasped tersely, rising her head to fasten her oceanic globes on a brace of spectacular chocolate pools. Nervous and giddy, she unwillingly tore away from the memorable eyes of her desirable prince charming. Unfortunately, he wasn't hers to take. "S-Sorry," she stuttered, "I can be a klutz."

Nick grinned, amused by her candor. "It's fine. I wasn't really paying attention either. Didn't think many people showed up this early." His eyes scanned Miley's civil facial traits, smothering his expression of readability. "You're that Cyrus, girl, right?"

"I'm here for morning cheer practice. And its Miley," she corrected impishly, licking her lips and crossing her arms.

"Miley," he repeated and she couldn't control the tumbling sensation in her stomach, heart fluttering at how charitably he said her abnormal name. "Sexy," Nick said, the ghost of his classic smirk seeping.

She thanked that they stood adjacent to the door of the gym, using the knob as a foundation to prevent herself from melting into a muddle. Her inner fan girl sighed dreamily, hand depressed between her breasts and compassion thumping affectionately through her arteries. "Right."

Shoving the door open and gesturing her inside, the handsome boy winked. "I believe this is your stop."

The hollers of the various coaches and the screeches of jumping feet slapped Miley out of her fantasy. She smiled politely, taking hold of the door. "Thanks," she said appreciatively.

"Run into you soon again, Cyrus," he played alluringly.

Miley glanced at him and for once, felt confident. "Count the hours if you want, Jonas," she countered and swung her hips seductively, unaware of her skirt rising openly in front of him.

* * *

IN THE VICNITY of the high schools exterior, Demi badgered, "Joe, will you _please_ hurry up? I think a snail is about to pass us." Her arm sagged on the mount of the window, ajar, and the cool wind cleaning her poked-face in tender pecks.

Joseph rolled his eyes and grappled the steering wheel, color eluding from his knuckles. "_You know_, Demetria, I don't _have_ to drive you to school each morning."

Demi bit in her cheek, feeling the gentle pull of the slippery tissue against her teeth and sweltering saliva. "Fine. I'm sorry, baby," she admitted, "but these traffic lights are getting way too long." The car steered into drive but she groaned, only to see the light ahead of them flicker red again.

As the car came to another halt, Joe averted his stare from the road to his impatient girlfriend. He grimaced at her puppy pout and her dull eyes which generally shimmered with pursuit; he'd do anything to get that back. Without a second thought, he bowed over the shift stick and kissed Demi amorously, warming both their lips.

Demi blinked, startled, but eventually absorbed Joe's sizzling breath. Draping her arms loosely around his neck, she fished her hands into the bronze stubbles of his hair, digging her fingernails into the top of his head in the form of a massage. He grunted into her ear vehemently and a moan fled from her tongue as his mouth left wonderful love bites on her neck, aligning his signature and blotting his territory on the maiden.

Joe had begun to slide his hand up her shirt when the couple was ultimately separated, jerking apart because of the unfriendly honk from the van behind.

"Joe, you're DRIVING!" Demi shrieked, urging him off with a discomfited blush snaking into her cheekbones.

He chuckled. "You didn't seem to mind that a few seconds ago," he mocked and bent the stick forward. Turning to see how far they were from the school as the car paused once again, Joe saw the words **Mound St.** printed upon the green sign. "Mound Street. Isn't this Selena's neighborhood?"

Recalling the mention of the street name during one of their multi-subjected conversations the day before, she cracked a smile and the hot tint to her face faintly diminished. "I think so. Let's give her a lift."

Joe parted his lips as if to throw a rebuff as she punched the dials on her cell phone, but pinched them together to retain the brief silence, deciding against it. He returned his heed to the road.

"Hey, Selena? It's Demi…"

* * *

SELENA TRAINED TOWARD the running vehicle, her curls rocking within its ponytail with ever step. Unlocking the door and wriggling into the backseat, she planted her bag next to her. "Thanks for offering the ride guys," she said sincerely.

The nightmare of the two children and the cloaked man cycled like a film through the preceding night and she awoke with sweat splattered across her forehead, distinguishing Cathy's shuddering hands wringing around her in consolation. Selena was exhausted, and she couldn't swipe the vision of her father's eyes lodged into Logan's sockets. Or maybe they were just his. That part remained ambivalent.

"No problem," Demi said, beaming, and glimpsed at Selena over the headrest. Her face rapidly twisted sordidly. "God, what happened? You look like you were hit by a bus."

Selena sighed. She wasn't too pleased with her reflection this morning either. Hair untamed, orbs bloodshot from her manifold outbursts and skin tone inadequate, anyone would have assumed that she'd gone nights without sleep or had a visit from the devil. She set her eyes on outside.

In that moment, destiny assaulted her. Selena spotted the boy, whom meandered inside her traumatic dreams, marching nonchalantly down the sidewalk. Vomit wanted to swim back up her esophagus. Contained within his hold was her crimson diary, poking out between his thick hand digits.

Selena, drained off life, lifted her stare and met the dark brown of his eyes.

"Might as well have been."


End file.
